Back To The Grind

.

I embark on a whole new career tomorrow.   Well, not entirely new, but certainly different.

I start working again.   After 17 very long months of  arduous unemployment;  after submitting application and resume after application and resume, I finally landed a job that was literally handed to me.   It’s not an ideal job by any means.  It’s a part-time job that pays part time wages even though it’ll force me to work 40 hours a week.   No benefits and it’s about a 50-mile round trip five days a week.

I’ll be doing PR and writing for an institute of higher learning here in the Houston area.   But in spite of its unsavory aspects, I’m grateful to have this job.  I really am.

I am grateful for a lot of things actually.   I’m grateful for my presence of mind.  

You see, I’ve just survived a very bleak period in my life.   As I’ve said here on this very blog, I’ve described it as the best worst year I’ve ever had.  It was rife with negatives but strewn with life lessons.   To begin with. abject joblessness wore thin.  Very, very thin.  I lost my job on the afternoon of Halloween of 2008 and in that time, I fell on fiscal hard times.   I’m broke and I turned 50.  I had my heart shattered by one man this summer and before Christmas, I managed to finally exorcise myself from the death grip another had on me for 38 years.  

Through indiscriminate suffering men know fear, and fear is the most divine emotion. It is the stones for altars and the beginning of wisdom.”

- Zora Neale Hurston (1903 – 1960)

Did I suffer?   Perhaps not, but it weren’t no picnic.  Consequently, I gained by losing.  I now live with a piece of me missing, but it’s OK.  I don’t look at the void and sigh with a fondness for  temps perdu.   When finally removed,  one rarely ever misses a huge, protruding tumor.   Even if benign,  it’s still emotionally cancerous just by its mere presence.  

Removal is key

And that’s what we humans do.   We live by shedding.  Cells of our dermis first and foremost.  Hairs from our head.   Then it’s ideals and mindsets; then jobs..maybe we let go of a few people along the way.   Even friendships have endings.  We have to let go of the past to make way for present–be it good or bad.

By some accounts, I could be construed as having had a privileged upbringing.  Physically, I never lacked for anything.  But having tangible stuff doesn’t a whole life make.  I’ve worked (by choice) since I was 16.  I’ve supported myself since 19 and spent 72K of my money (thank you, capitalism) to major in journalism, only to graduate and go forth in a world that would allow me to work in broadcasting sporadically.

Had I known that broadcasting would become so unstable because of deregulation, I would’ve majored in anything else.  Art History.  Gum wrapper making.  Tiddly-wiking.   I gave up on TV years ago.  Radio was harder to relinquish (I loved it because it was easier abnd I didn’t have to wear hose or make-up), but now, I have no choice.   It’s a dying medium and doing so right before my very ears.   Radio is one of a few topics that can instaneously bring a tear to my eye.  It saddens me greatly.

I saw the movie, “Up In The Air” recently.   George Clooney plays a professional employment terminator who flies from corporation to corporation to fire employees.   In one scene he told a man losing his desk job of 27 years to change his perspective.  He worked to live;  he didn’t live to work.   This pencil pushing gig was a paycheck, not his passion.  Clooney then asked him what his dream job was.  The man thought for a second and replied, “I’ve always wanted to cook.  Ever since I was a little boy I dreamed of being a chef!” 

Well, that’s fine and all, but what do you do if you were living and working your dream?  I was.  As a kid in single digits, I used to “play” broadcasting with anything that looked phalllic enough to be a microphone.   I’d watch local news and saw myself as that reporter in the field and as the anchor in that chair.  

I remember anchoring a 10pm newscast one night.  I remember how the heat of the lights felt against my face, how the studio smelled.  I remember looking into the lens of that huge, looming camera.   I felt very fulfilled; very satisfied.  It was everything I imagined it to be.  I felt right.  The envrionment felt natural.   I was at home.

But that was 20 years ago.  Everything has changed and it’s worse than you can even imagine.   You might think, when driving in a remote stretch or through a tunnel, that the static you hear indicates a signal reception issue.   No, the signal is fine.  That’s just radio’s death rattle.   Call a priest.  Last rites.   Put pennies on its eyelids.   Throw it on a pyre. 

Burn baby burn.   

You can’t spell the word “remember” without embers.   There’s something cerebral and heady in that, I just don’t know what it is.  

Never mind..

What I’m trying to say is if that’s the case why keep fighting?  Why try to force the issue by beating a dead horse and other platitudes.   Sadly, radio is part of my past.   It’s now packaged neatly next to  dusty memories of a career in TV and my even dustier size 6 jeans. 

Unless something amazing happens and the Earth’s axis tilts so that Jews and Arabs can lovingly share an ice cream cone and Big Corporate Radio sells AM and FM tandems back to Mom, and Pop so they can re-establish those nice, homey thousand-watters, I’ve shut off my mike and hung up my headphones forever.

And if the money should ever flow freely through the clogged arteries of my life once again, I will quit all aspects of the dreary 9 to 5 existence and I will write a book.   Perhaps two books. 

And you will buy my books because as I see it, you owe me.   I’ve tried very hard to entertain you through this blog.  I charged nothing–I only asked for your time and patience to muddle through the literary by-products of my lunacy.  .  I fully intended to make you laugh mostly and for sorbet, I tried  to make you think with my self-serving drivel on occasions and at times, perhaps I’ve angered you.   In fact, I know I did.

I wrote a post about my disregard for “thinness in society”.   That drew ire. 

I’ve made fun of Democrats relentlessly and I was often attacked as a result.   Those who don’t share my negative zeal for Liberals can be very emotional when angered.   The problem with that is, so can I.  

I intentionally insulted young mothers who do nothing as their children kick, scream and wail in public. 

I composed a graphic piece  on the utter grossness of spider bites which all by itself, amassed something like 20-thousand hits in just over a week.

I expect this blog to reach one million hits by mid-June.   That will be a few months after  it turns three.  I couldn’t be happier.  It’s been a good run.

I convey all this to you because I don’t know what my days will be like in this new job venture.   I can’t say whether I’ll be posting  more often or less often–we’ll just have to see.

But whatever the scenario, please know that it’s been a pleasure serving you.   This blog has kept me sane in moments of sheer insanity and you’ve put up with my strange sense of humor.  You’ve coped with my non-sensical approach to verbiage where simpler words would’ve worked just as well and you’ve also strained your ocular muscles umpteen times as you rolled your eyes repeatedly why struggling through my self-indulgent identity crisesessesess.

You know…as in more than one crisis.

I will tell you that I’m seriously considering closing shop at the one million mark.  That in and of itself is quite a feat for a single blogger if I say so myself, but when and if I ever stop blogging, you’ll know that will only mean the beginning of my book writing career.

Would you buy and read a book penned by me, Laurie Kendrick????  

Just curious.

Aside from that query gentle readers, I do so appreciate your time.   You rarely get told that for coming here as you do, especially when there are millions of other blogs out there.  You make my blog appointment reading and the numbers don’t lie.   You come here of your own accord, so the least I can do is make it worth your while, so thank you from the bottom of my enlarged heart.  

And also, thank you for putting up with me and with my bullshit.  Thanks for dealing with my mundane life that my literary shading makes so much livelier and of course, my very warped and strange sense of humor.  

The reality is I have no boundaries.  My life, with few exceptions, is an open book and you, lucky reader, you receive the benefit of reading about my sad, trauma-filled, maudlin existence.  I mean, let’s face it–I’m horribly, terribly unlucky in love; I’m middle-aged, a bit bitter and barely employable.  I’m depressed and pathological in so many different ways and all in all, one pretty fucked up bitch, but somehow through the muck and mire of it all, you like me. 

You really like me.

And to be perfectly honest, I like you too.

Even my fellow assholes.

Here’s to the written word, ya’ll.

,

Protect Yourself With Credit’s Little Condoms

,

I’ll soon be working again…part-time anyway.

Even so, I encourage everyone to sing and give thanks and praise for small but glorious favors!!!

.

♦

♦

.

Jimmy cracked voice and I don’t care.

But seriously, folks.  I’ll soon be a fairly productive member of polite society and becvause of that, I thought I’d pass along a few things that we can do to protect our credit, our identification and our piece of mind, so we can stay members of a polite society.♦

1.Make it tough on the crook.  Give him or her no tips or clues as to how one might steal your good name and credit standing.  The next time you order checks have only your initials (instead of first name) and last name put on them. If someone takes your checkbook, they will not know if you sign your checks with just your initials or your first name, but your bank will know how you sign your checks.

2. Don’t sign the back of your credit cards.  Instead, put “PHOTO ID REQUIRED.”   I’ve noticed that more and more cashiers are asking for an ID when you hand them a credit card, but more need to ask.   I really think the Credit Card companies ( or as I call them, “Hitler”)  should make it mandatory–YOU WILL NOT BE BLE TO USE A CREDIT CARD **UNLESS** YOU SHOW PROPER PHOTO I.D.

3.  When  writing checks to pay on your credit card accounts, DO NOT put the complete account number on the “For” line. Instead, just put the last four
numbers. The credit card company knows the rest of the number, and anyone who might be handling your check as it passes through all the check-processing channels
will not have access to it.

4. Put your work phone # on your checks instead of your home phone. If you have a PO Box, use that instead of your home address. If you do not have a PO Box, use
your work address. Never have your SS# printed on your checks, (DUH!). You can add it if necessary.

5. Place the contents of your wallet on a photocopy machine. Do both sides of each license, credit card, etc.   This way, you’ll know what you had in your wallet and all
of the account numbers and phone numbers to call and cancel. Keep the photocopy in a safe place–one that rarely sees the light of day.  In my case, I keep it with my very dusty household cleaning supplies.  

OK, so Hazel I ain’t!!!  

Also carry a photocopy of your passport when  traveling.   We’ve all heard horror stories about fraud after some A-hole steals a name, address,  Social Security number and credit cards.

6.  I didn’t know this one until I read this list of do’s and don’ts.    When you check out of a hotel that uses cards for keys (and they all seem to do that now), do not turn
the “keys” in. Take them with you and destroy them.   Set thyem ablaze and bring out the marshmallows.  Better yet, heat them to the point of pliabiloity and make Vacu-Form cars out of them.

I just thought they only opened a locked hotel room door.  Hardly.  Did you know those little plastic bastards  have encoded in them, all of the information
you gave the hotel, including address and credit card numbers and expiration dates?? Who knew?   Consequently, any heathen with a card reader, or employee of the hotel, can access all that information with no problem whatsoever.

Now, if your wallet or purse or fanny pack or whatever is pilfered by some idiot hell-bent to live in residence full time at those lovely penal resorts known as Folsom, Attica or San Quentin, here are some critical bits of  info that I hope will limit the damage.

1. For starters, cancel all credit cards  immediately. Really–do this first.  Now, the key is having immediate access to the credit card companies toll-free numbers.  keep those card numbers handy so you know whom to call.   Keep them where you can find them.

2.  The second thing you must do is call the cos.  File a police report immediately in the jurisdiction where your credit cards, etc., were stolen.   This is important.  This proves to credit providers you were diligent.  This action is also very relevant in an investigation, if there is one. 

AND THE MOST IMPORTANT THING YOU SHOULD DO IN CASE YOUR CREDIT CARDS ARE STOLEN:

Call the three national credit reporting organizations to place a fraud alert on your name and Social Security number.   This is vital because credit applications are easily made over the internet and using someone’s elses info this way is an even easier no-brainer.   

The alert means any company that checks your credit knows your information has been stolen, and they have to contact you by phone to authorize new credit.  Without doing this, your credit (and your life, for that matter) can suffer extensive damage that could take you years to fix and very  close involvement and interaction with….(gulp)….lawyers.

The good news is that these days, there are records of all the credit checks initiated by the thieves’ purchases.    This means their activities are more easily tracked and detection is easier. 

Now, I’ll do you a solid by giving you the toll-free numbers you’ll need in the event your wallet and/or pocketbook and/or purse are stolen.

Equifax:   1-800-525-6285 
Experian (formerly TRW):  1-888-397-3742 
TransUnion:   1-800-680-7289 
Social Security Administration (fraud line):   1-800-269-0271

Be careful, kids.   Socially, it’s a damn jungle out there and well-being hungry pariahs that thrive in an environment of avarice, greed and an absence of guilt and remorse, are waiting to pee all over your day.

So, pee on your wallets first.

.

 .inswim